


Tinned Fish

by Lexipen



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Angst, Eventual Romance, Eventual Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan, F/F, Fix-It of Sorts, Mutual Pining, Pre-Episode: Revolution of the Daleks, Yasmin Khan Loves the Thirteenth Doctor, thasmin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-11
Updated: 2021-01-11
Packaged: 2021-03-15 03:27:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,079
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28681806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lexipen/pseuds/Lexipen
Summary: “...after watching her defend mankind, defend the universe, and then sit here terrified of a fictional character with no nose, it was just endearing. How could she not fall in love with her?”
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor/Yasmin Khan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 19





	Tinned Fish

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: I don't own anything, please don't sue me! 
> 
> Basically how I wanted RotD to go, clearly still not over it! This will be a couple of chapters long and I have no Beta so sorry for any mistakes! 
> 
> As always, please let me know your thoughts and if it’s worth continuing. 
> 
> Lex x

She’d done it. She’d finally fucking done it. This useless, unresponsive pile of shite that she’d thought was completely immobile, finally seemed to be doing  _something_. 

It wasn’t a gentle whir by any means. It sounded more like a child bashing on pots and pans with a wooden spoon, but it was finally doing something.

Yaz had spent the past almost year trying and failing to get back to the Doctor. Wondering whether she should just give up and presume she was dead like Graham and Ryan did when they basically told her with sympathetic eyes, every time they’d visit her with a flask of coffee and she refused to leave the tin can. But Yaz was not one to give up easily.

Back when Izzy Flint made her life a misery, bullied her for almost a decade until she was at breaking point, yeah, she’d almost given up then. But as she contemplated throwing herself into the road or disappearing into the moors and not looking back, someone had been there for her. Promising her that everything would be alright in the end and she’d come out on top. That little bit of support from a complete stranger, some comforting words and a ride home had changed her life. She wasn’t about to give up on the Doctor now. She’d be those encouraging words of support, that person waiting to find her at the side of the road, or on a floating planet in the universe, and make everything right again. She’d be the one to _save_ her.

Yaz had almost driven herself silly talking to this Tardis, hoping it had some sentience like her beloved blue box, starting with soft calming words of encouragement at the beginning, to full-on unhinged begging over the last few weeks. For almost 10 months, she’d got nothing. She’d tried almost every combination of button presses, noting down the last failed attempt on a post-it note and starting all over again. She could swim through these notes now and a small part of her felt guilty about the number of dead trees that surrounded her. But still, nothing. Not one tiny peep. Until today. 

The evening before, Yaz was completely exhausted, laying in her dads ratty sleeping bag back on the floor of the tin can, staring into the clinical whites of its ceiling and thinking about some of the last good times she spent with the Doctor. At the forefront of her mind was the sleepover she’d had with the Doctor at her flat. The Tardis had booted the Time Lord out for the night, something to do with a dodgy repair and a lot of smoke that Yaz could still smell a week later. Anyway, the Doctor had come knocking on her door and asked if she could kip over whilst the Tardis had time to cool down and maybe, _eventually_ , let her thief back in. Of course, Yaz had agreed instantly and she’d never forget the sheer childlike excitement on the doctors face as she suggested a movie night and pizza making. 

The Doctor had pulled almost every ingredient Yaz had in her cupboards for toppings, starting with the typical mozzarella and tomatoes, to bananas and strawberries, and then some questionable looking tinned sardines that she’s sure were older than her. By now, the label had worn off and she couldn’t find the expiry date so what did the Doctor do? She’d licked it. Of course, she had. She’d told Yaz that they were only 10 years old and not the 22 she’d predicted. Yaz hadn’t laughed like that in a long time but promptly put the old can back into the dark corners of the cupboard and out of the doctors reach- a mental note to chuck them out later.

They’d stayed up late, huddled close together on Yaz’s bed watching Harry Potter. The Doctor was engrossed, to say the least. Every time the Dark Lord showed up, she’d inch closer to Yaz and grab onto the sheets in a white-knuckled grip. That image made Yaz’s mind wander into places she definitely shouldn’t go with the Doctor being so close, but she lapped up the rare close contact. Her feelings for the doctor had hit her full force the last few months and she was to put it lightly, a hot gay mess. She had obviously thought the doctor was gorgeous as soon as she had laid eyes on her, even covered in dust and wearing a suit that smelt like old people. But now, after watching her defend mankind, defend the universe, and then sit here terrified of a fictional character with no nose, it was just endearing. How could she _not_ fall in love with her?

That night, the Doctor actually fell asleep just as we found out that Snape was the Half-Blood Prince, softly clutching onto Yaz’s hand and drooling into her shoulder. Yaz hadn’t had the heart to move in case she woke her, _or in case she let go of her hand_ , and slept upright most of the night, wrapping her free arm around her and keeping the Doctor close. In the morning, she awoke to her Time Lord's arms cuddled around her waist, one hand resting on Yaz’s stomach beneath her sleep shirt, and the duvet pulled up to their necks. When Yaz had reluctantly tried to wriggle away to go to the loo, the Doctor pulled her back, still foggy with sleep and asked for 5 more lifetimes. _If only_ , Yaz had thought as she slipped back under the sheets. 

Then it clicked. Yaz had never moved so fast. She’d shot out of that sleeping bag, foregone her shoes and legged it up the three streets to Park Hill in her PJs. By now it was closing in at 4am and her family would all be asleep. The last thing Yaz wanted to do was wake them as she hadn’t been back here in almost 2 months.

She just couldn’t deal with all the questions about where she was going, why she wasn’t in work again and where the Doctor had disappeared to. There was only so many excuses she could come up with before they got suspicious and began to suffocate her.

Najia resorted to ringing Yaz’s boss to see if anything had happened whilst on the job that Yaz hadn’t told them about, and found out that Yaz had resigned three months prior. To say that Yaz’s mum was upset was an understatement. Yaz had tried to calm her down and tell her that she just wanted to take a break and figure out if the police force was her future, but they were having none of it. Najia blamed the Doctors “bad influence” on her and told her she was being stupid and reckless. Yaz knew that it was coming from a place of worry but she just couldn’t handle it anymore and told them she needed space and was moving out. Najia had cried and Hakim gave her disappointed looks as she packed up her room and left with the promise to call. Sonya didn’t even look at her. 

Yaz carefully slotted her key into the front lock of Flat 34 Park Hill estate, remembering to push the door open slowly and stop halfway before it creaked. She felt like some sort of mediocre spy on a mission as she tiptoed to the living room door, peeking around the gap to make sure nobody was there and crawling across the carpet to avoid anyone from the outside seeing her creep around. The flat was eerily silent and she made her way to the kitchen, knocking the dimmer lights up ever so slightly so she could just see the contents of the cupboard. Yaz prayed to the gods that her parents hadn’t decided to have a new year clear out.

There it was, exactly where she’d left it almost a year ago. The old tin of sardines. Yaz reached into her pocket and pulled out a ziplock bag and a pair of medical gloves. She pulled the gloves on and grabbed the can, dripping into the ziplock and tucking it away safely into her coat pocket. Now for the great escape.

She was nearly there, just shy of being out the bloody door when in her haste she’d flung it open a bit too hard. It ricocheted off the coat rack, causing a mismatch of hats and brollies to clatter to the ground. _Fuck_. Sonya was at the top of the stairs in an instant, brandishing her old hockey stick ready to strike. 

“Yaz! What the fuck are you doing!” Sonya loudly whispered, angry but relieved. 

“I was just popping in to grab my ermm umbrella. I err needed it as you know, the weathers not been great recently.” Yaz knew it was a lame excuse but it’s all she had at that moment. 

“What at 4am? With no shoes on?! And what’s that hanging out your pocket? Is that a can of food? Are you sneaking in to steal food Yaz? Are things really that bad are you living on the streets?” Sonya asked, the anger gone from her voice and her face full of concern for her sister.

_Shit._

“No Son, that’s not it. It’s a long story and I will explain eventually, I promise. But I’m okay and no, I’m not stealing cans of food. I just needed this specific can for something. Research if you will. You know I hate any kind of fish!”

Sonya knew that to be right and some of the worry left her face. “Right, whatever you weirdo. Just don’t go sneaking about in the middle of the night, I almost whacked your head in!”She turned to go back to bed, seemingly letting Yaz off the hook before stepping back across the landing and giving her a pointed look. “And check in with mum and dad once in a while yeah, they’re a pain in the arse but they’re just worried Yaz. We all are.” Yaz gave her a solemn nod and with that, she shut the door and left without looking back. She was on a mission now. 

The hours that followed were tense. She didn’t really have any idea what she was doing but she’d heard the doctor mention this particular bit of space kit before. It looked like a selfie stick in a Pringles tube in comparison to the one on the real Tardis but apparently, it could read DNA and locate that person anywhere in the universe, and once it did, it’d land there. 

After the thousands of failed plans before, Yaz wasn’t going to get her hopes up but decided to be prepared just in case. She changed out of her PJs and put on her new “combat” suit. 

She had bought a skintight black leotard type thing as it was light and she could move easily in it. She felt silly and a bit like cat woman at first but fuck it. It was comfortable and made her feel confident. The next thing she slipped over her chest was the bulletproof vest she might’ve stolen from the armed response unit locker room at work. Yaz knew that space lasers and god knows whatever else will probably blast through it, but it made her feel a little bit safer. She slipped on her black beanie over her single tight braid, tightened up her black leather lace-up boots and finished the outfit off with a knife belt that she’d acquired on eBay... _just in case_.

Tentatively, she placed the sardine can into the creaky contraption and fixed it in tight. She placed both hands on the lid and pushed it shut. Then she waited. 

Nothing. 

_Fuuuuuuuck_! Yaz slammed her hands onto the console, bowed her head between them and let the tears flow. How stupid and naive had she been to think that this would work. Of course, the DNA would be gone after all of this time. Of course, this stupid ship wouldn’t work in the same way. Of course it.... what? The floor beneath her started to shake and the walls looked as if they were going to concertina in on themselves. Something was happening. 

Yaz braced herself as the tin Tardis rumbled violently, her notes whirling in the air around her in what looked like the final task of the Crystal Maze. She was moving. No, she was flying. 

She’d done it. 


End file.
